


United we stand...

by Sys



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 09:45:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18258773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sys/pseuds/Sys
Summary: Just a little series of drabbles loosely based around the idea of "how to grow up in the Warrior Caste". Please read the second note particularly.





	United we stand...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kanadka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanadka/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this little dive into growing up Minbari Warrior Caste, Kanadka. I'll admit that it's not exactly what you asked for, but your info said that I could combine your wants with my likes... and this is a mix of the two. :) 
> 
> There are mentions of physical and mental abuse as part of the training in this. Not very explicit but stay clear if this triggers you. I'm not sure listening to Pink Floyd's _Another Brick in the Wall_ while looking for a prompt was a good idea. 
> 
> I have no idea why the word count shows as 3001, in my document it's 3000 without the drabble markers and 3030 with them.
> 
> Thanks so much to the loveliest of Dreams for taking the time to read this for me and calm my nerves. <3

~

“Come to me, son.” Her tone encourages him and he tries to get to his feet. Rises to fall. And rise again. Neekori is waiting, her arms open to him. Her smile says that he could fly if she asked him, but his legs will not follow. Again he stumbles. And rises once more. 

“Join me in the way you can.” Her smile is smaller as he moves on his knees to obey, but her arms close around him and lift him up. “We will try again together.” 

His feet touch the ground once more and she holds his hands.

~~

He lands a blow to Darkari’s shoulder that forces him to the floor. Kneels above him and lifts his fist to show that he could. Sees the fear that he might in the other boy’s eyes. And feels the same joy he felt when Neekori first showed him the Kurep that she made just for him. Mirokks are inherited from the ancestors. But Kureps are made especially for each child of the caste... 

“It is enough, we have witnessed your triumph,” Kuyenn admonishes him and he rises to obey. Pulls Darkari back to his feet. And bows to the Sech. 

~~~

The words around him are in a language he half remembers. Prayers and rituals that he knew once. Turell said that he was here before when they parted ways. Explained that it is their way, giving up their children to the other castes for three months each, every three years. Ever since those days long ago when Valen united the castes and the fighting ceased, safe to train for defeating outsiders. 

Neekori’s eyes watch over him if only in his thoughts. Her thoughts are elsewhere now... the child growing inside her... he tries to focus on the meditations as ordered.

~

Neekori smiles, greeting him, but her arms are filled with the young one that grew inside her. Its ridges are still soft, its eyes closed. There is little that makes it truly Minbari. 

He studies the intruder, careful not to voice his disapproval. 

“Come to me, Na. Meet your brother.” 

He follows the order as he must. 

“House first. Clan second. Caste third,” Neekori reminds him. “Will you respect, teach and guard your brother?”

“I will.” 

“This is Teenok.” 

He holds his arms as Neekori does, receives the child and forces a smile. “You are welcome in our home, Teenok.”

~~

His hands still ache from further lessons in writing letters and words when they train with flat palms.. It would be easier to practice kicks or running. But complaints are for the weaker among the group, and they would be sanctioned. 

He studies Filainn as they face each other, surprised that _he_ keeps quiet. Perhaps he has learned his lesson... 

It takes two well placed blows to send him to the floor. And he should simply help him back to his feet and start over. But he cannot resist looming over him. 

“Did that hurt?”

The fool averts his gaze.

~~~

Tikrann leaves the chamber, her face pale, but her steps steady. He greets her in passing, but cannot linger to speak to her. Enters the chamber as calmly as possible, and kneels in the middle of the room, his head bowed. Waits, obediently, as his eyes are covered and his wrists are bound. 

Listens for any sounds that might forewarn him. 

There is no telling what will happen. There never is. Sometimes nothing will. It is absurd to fear the unknown. To be afraid of the dark and the silence, with his mind conjuring up scenarios of things to come...

~

It is the giggling that reveals Teenok’s location. He would beat the child to teach him to lie still as he hides, but Neekori forbids it. Hiding is the first skill of survival. It is how the youngest keep out of sight should packs of wild beasts become too daring. If you cannot defend yourself against a larger opponent yet... he picks up the sniggering mess and throws him over his shoulder. 

“I will gut you and cook you and serve you for dinner,” he threatens, but that just makes the laughter grow louder. Something must be wrong with Teenok.

~~

Shinar turns to him as they practice sewing. “Is this not what the worker caste is for? It is a...”

They have permission to speak as they sew. But to question the Sech’s teachings... it comes as no surprise that Shinar is asked to rise. And he straightens his own back just a little further in sympathy. Disobedience is both painful and humiliating. 

All conversations fall silent while they watch as they must. 

At least transgressions while learning are handled by the Sech and forgotten once they were seen to. No shame befalls house or clan through a student’s mistake. 

~~~

“You will follow my instructions while you live in my father’s house,” she informs him solemnly and he bows his head.”I want you to watch Mirann’s movements and write a detailed report on what she did.”

“Understanding is not required. Only obedience,” he replies, knowing better than to challenge the order. The robes are uncomfortable, but one who knows not to question orders would never question Valen’s wisdom in ordaining these exchanges. 

_Her_ eyes are wise, too. As a Sech’s. As Neekori’s. She is many years his elder.

But why would she ask him to observe a Gok’s every move? 

~

He follows Neekori, his Mirokk in hand. It is not his first hunt, of course. He has watched her skills in awe whenever her time and his could be shared in so valiant a recreation. But it is the first one he is allowed to join beyond observation. 

Neekori turns to offer him the short, proud smile she sometimes favors him with for no discernible reason. “Take aim as I do.”

Mirroring her stance he takes aim as ordered, but it is her Mirokk that slays the Raalon. 

“Your heart is in it, Na.” 

Undeserved praise to one who missed.

~~

“What do you know about the Anla’Shok?” Sech Turi asks and it is unclear what she wishes to hear. Neekori said the Anla’Shok were noble warriors, a long time ago, but her tone was filled with sorrow as she spoke. 

“Rise,” the Sech orders and he obeys. “Have those who raised you filled your heart with tales of old?”

Minbari do not lie. But the way the Sech asks... “We were told that Valen founded them as a valiant army prepared to rise against the shadows’ return.”

“ _The shadows_...” The Sech echoes him and his friends’ laughter scorns his folly. 

~~~

He assists Hylax as he gathers herbs. Listens as he describes the uses of each plant picked, though there is no doubt in his mind that he will forget when he returns to his own people. Had he been meant to be of the worker caste Neekori would have born him into it. 

“Plants can cure many ailments in times of need. They are useful to members of _all_ castes.”

There is resignation in Hylax’s voice as if he could sense his thoughts. He attempts to look more interested as Neekori would expect. But she already taught him to cook.

~

Teenok is full of questions. He asks about everything, and there is no hope in stopping him by reminding him that understanding is not required. 

Why is the sky blue, not green? Why do Temshwee sing sweeter than Niriki? When -not if!- Valen returns, will he protect us from the shadows?

Turell’s replies are earnest and calm. Instead of discouraging him from his foolishness, he takes each question as seriously as the last. And he cannot help listening when he should not care. Understanding is not required. Teenok should be taught _that_ lesson. Not be encouraged to ask more questions.

~~

When they reach their eleventy-fourth year it is time for the first Yurakk. It is the easiest of the three, their equipment and instructions will guide them, and their destination provides a natural merit: the strait of weel will make access to food a simple endeavor. 

He studies his friends’ faces as the ship takes off. Tikrann seems composed, as expected. As does Shinar. Darkari’s face is doubtful, Filainn looks like he might _cry_ when prodded, while Naeri seems preoccupied with planning their duties. There is no doubt that she will rise to Alyt.

“First we will explore the surroundings.” 

~~~

Rylla walks ahead to the fenced area and he follows her. She gives a short cry and seven small creatures come running towards her. She scratches the one closest to her hands and nods encouragingly. “They require attention at this stage.”

The animal’s skin is gristly, but not unpleasant to touch. Something about it is pleasant... like stroking a Gok. But whether it is the soft vibrating of its body or its odd clicking noises he cannot tell. 

“Have you named them yet?”

The look Rylla gives him informs him that his question is dense. “Why would we name Raalon?”

~

“What are you doing inside?” He asks, glaring at Teenok when he finally locates him. It is plain to see what he is doing. As to _why_ that is a whole different matter. 

“Writing a story, would you like to...”

“You will join me.” The command is clear and even Teenok has learned to obey most orders.

Leading him outside he takes his position and waits for Teenok to mirror him. 

“Watch.” He keeps the combination short as Neekori ordered, but Teenok fails to mirror him. “I will burn your scribbling if you fail to pay attention.”

Teenok looks terrified.

~~

The second Yurakk requires them to make their own preparations. Fortunately it is Naeri’s duty to inform them what to read for inspiration so each of them will pack suitable equipment for the area and the mission. Leaders are born and honed through their tasks. And theirs understands her duties.

This time the quest is a little more challenging as aside from surviving they will need to locate a hidden item through vague clues directing them to its location. Valen took delight in setting tasks such as that for his children. And tradition demands that they follow their leader’s guidance. 

~~~

It is strange not to leave his house for another exchange. Only that it means to teach new invaders to his home instead, first one of the worker caste, and then one of the religious. It also means focusing on the child entrusted to him rather than to train with his friends and clansmen. 

But Neekori expects him to treat the children as he would his brother. 

“No, like this.” He holds up his hands again. It is as if speaking Fik to her was too much of a challenge when he managed continued lessons in Adronato. “Try that again.”

~

“I want you to sleep outside, Na,” Neekori informs him as they finish target practice. It is unclear if he has failed her or if it is merely her wish. But he bows and obeys without asking her reasons, though the nights are even colder than the days.

Neekori spends considerably more time around him than it is her habit. There is something guarded about her expression, and they hunt, many times when once that pleasure was for special days only. His aim is excellent now, almost as good as hers, but it appears that he still needs to improve.

~~

When the location of the final Yurakk is revealed understanding dawns. Travelling from Sikar to Drogani... he bows, careful to avoid giving away his feelings. After hours and hours spent in the Chamber of Kamok, fearing the elements is unreasonable. And nothing could change what is inevitable if he wants to prove his heart a warrior’s. 

So many rights can only be gained by passing the final test. But passing it... his friends are dressed for the cold as he is. Warmer hoods and gloves than usual protecting their skin. 

“We will survive,” Naeri promises, but her voice sounds uncertain.

~~~

Ashan follows him as he leads him to the Chamber. Even without turning he knows that the boy’s head is bowed to hide his fear. Filainn and Tikrann have also brought the children entrusted to them and he wonders, briefly, if it is easier or harder to face the fear as a group. As it is a concession to the less courageous castes, it is probably easier. 

Inside the chamber, they blindfold the children and bind their wrists, and then leave the chamber to wait. The waiting is crucial to the process. Allowing memories and imagination to weaken the will.

~

Teenok is sobbing, hiding under his covers and while he despises the sound, it alarms him. His brother is not Filainn who can be moved to tears by pain. No, he remembers the time it took them three days to realize that Teenok broke his arm during his first hunt, and the pride that filled his heart... 

“If anyone slighted you I will challenge them for you.”

Once that promise would have pleased Teenok, but not now. 

“Go away.”

“Tell me.”

“You could never understand.”

Probably not. “Tell me.”

“My main character is... awful!”

“Is that a problem?”

“Go. Away.”

~~

They are finally gathered for the first flying lesson. Six of them with three flyers to train in, which results in one hour of flying, and one hour of analyzing your current sparring partner’s style. But of course flying is the reward of listening to another three hours of instructions, warnings and general... he lowers his head to hide his eyes. The smallest spark of rebellion would leave him with two hours of taking notes. 

“Will you go first?” Filainn asks when it is time.

“Yes.” 

All controls are familiar in theory, but actually using them is trickier than expected.

~~~

Zassa is a bundle of energy. Quietly so, fortunately, but on her feet whenever she is not asleep, eating or praying. She is also adequate at following instructions, so training her is not as much a waste of his time as it is with other members of her caste. When they bring the worker caste children together to give them suitable sparring partners, she easily surpasses everyone else’s trainees. 

If Teenok had not been granted charges of his own this year, the experience might actually have left him vaguely satisfied. Only that Teenok’s Glomo is... both appallingly clingy and insufferable.

~

It is shortly after Teenok has survived his third Yurakk that it is time for the Kulav competition. Father and mother’s child against mother and father’s child. Standing against Neekori in anything is unfathomable, but it is crucial to honor her by proving his skills honed by her teachings. 

There are nine tasks in sets of threes. Survival skills, questions surrounding their culture, and fighting styles. Turell’s skills should prove a good completion to his own. But Neekori’s surpass his and he is unsure if Turell’s surpass Teenok’s. 

“Prove to me that I taught you well,” Neekori orders. 

He bows.

~~

Tikrann approaches him with a grim expression. A request then. She hates asking for assistance, so it must be important. 

“Cut me.”

In two days F’hursna Durhann will begin to teach them and she wishes to be cut _now_? 

He accepts her Kurep and she turns, allowing him to touch her crest. He can sense the impatience in her, but the cutting is an art that requires time and steady hands. One wrong cut... it is unthinkable... 

“If you asked Naeri...” 

“I want to surprise her.”

He _almost_ slips. 

It is not unexpected that she favors Naeri above all, but...

~~~

His current charge watches as they practice skin dancing. Skin dancing lessons, like Denn’bok training, are not interrupted even as they tutor their charges. Gives them time to learn what it truly means to be a warrior, beyond the meager skills they pick up in a few months of training interrupted by years of idleness. 

When he finishes flying he is met with wide eyes. 

“You were so close to them...”

“That _is_ the point.”

“I feared for your safety...”

“You doubted my skills?”

“That is not what I meant to convey.”

“Follow me, it is time your training continues.”

~

“House first, clan second, caste third,” Neekori says as she rests her hand above his heart. “Soon it will be time for you to leave with the clansmen you bonded with...”

Shinar and Tikrann have warned him that this day would come and he bows, obediently. It is late, the talk on traditions and pleasure zones, when completing the final Yurakk has granted them the right to explore... but as no parent would ask and no child would tell... 

His friends will remain his companions till it is time to settle for one of the caste. One of another clan.

~~

“I have been accepted to become an Acolyte to the Grey Council,” Filainn announces and he cannot believe his ears. Naeri or Tikrann. Even Shinar... but Filainn? Excelling in your studies should not be the only consideration for being allowed to serve the highest of the caste. 

He turns to Naeri, waits for her to admonish the step or forbid it as would be her right, but it appears that they have discussed the matter in private as her smile shows pride at the honor this will bring to their clan. 

_If_ Filainn proves himself to be worthy of it. 

~~~

Before it is time for the last exchange the Chosen One dies and everything changes. To think that they might finalize their training in battle, carried by the religious caste’s prayers, assisted by the worker caste’s skills... Valen would be pleased by this unification. 

It is Naeri who volunteers their group. There are warriors more experienced than they are, but to spread true terror you need to be unpredictable. Blind them through taking away their outposts. And bind them by destroying their ships. Many are needed to complete so sacred a task. 

When Naeri returns, she smiles. “We will serve.”


End file.
